


A Conversation in Passing

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, M/M, Non-consensual vampire transformation, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: More than a century has passed since Davey became a vampire. A chance meeting with Crutchie in a New York subway station could offer new opportunities, if only Davey wanted them.





	A Conversation in Passing

A voice rang in the vampire’s mind, and he clutched his book tighter. The subway was packed with people, but he’d been dead for so long that he could almost ignore the heady temptation of blood and warmth that humanity brought with it. He focused instead on the whoosh and clack of the train, the way it jostled with each stop, the grime on the poles, and the damp smell of the underground.

 _Davey!_ The voice came again, and the vampire winced. The words on the page were a blur, and he must’ve read the same paragraph at least eight times since the voice began. He took a deep breath and turned the page anyway. His hands were whiter than the paper of his book. They were too big for his body, just like his limbs were too long and ungainly. He’d lived for well over a century, but his body was still that of a teenager who’d not quite grown into himself yet, and nothing could remind him of that quite like those times when the specters of his past managed to catch up with him for a friendly chat.

Davey got off at the next stop, and just stood on the platform for a minute with his hand pressed against the bridge of his nose. This meeting was inevitable, and it didn’t matter, it didn’t. Amidst all the footsteps and mortal conversations, he could hear the movement of a crutch across concrete, a real and organic sound, like a human heartbeat. Davey let out a breath.

“Crutchie.” It wasn’t hard to find the other vampire, move in close to him, place an intimate hand on his wrist. The familiarity of it was the difficult part. Davey wasn’t one of the misanthropic old ones, who spurned the company of his own kind, but he and Crutchie had been boys together. They’d seen the sun, known the same people, lived and breathed and fought together at the dawning of a century that had already come and gone.

They were brothers, as well, both in spirit and in maker. There was no erasing that.

“Knew you’d be back in New York,” Crutchie whispered. Only Crutchie could say what basically amounted to I told you so without seeming like he was gloating. He still had the same accent of old New York that he’d had as a rough and tumble street kid, the one that was effortlessly kind and would probably make Bela Lugosi (who was not even a real vampire) roll over in his grave. It was hard not to be completely disarmed by it, and it was only by looking up at Crutchie’s face that Davey found the strength to try, just a little.

In life, Crutchie had been younger than Davey. In immortality, he was a man in his prime, about twenty-six perhaps. A great deal of care had gone into making him. Crutchie was not an accident.

“Davey?” Crutchie’s voice had dipped in sympathy. “You don’t gotta come with us yet if you ain’t ready.”

“It ain’t… It’s not that. I- I read about some buildings that they were tearing down. I came here to see them, not you. Not any of you. It’s not about you personally, but I’m not here to see you.” Davey wiped his hands on his jeans. Such an old habit, but seeing his old people always seemed to bring those back to the forefront. He didn’t even sweat anymore, and it that was a good thing, because an immortal blood drinker that became nervous and broke into a cold sweat at the drop of a hat was a notion too ridiculous to be countenanced.

“Alright,” was all that Crutchie said. They were near the stairwell now. Davey didn’t think Crutchie would follow him out into the world. They were only supposed to meet each other in short, transitory bursts. They weren’t heading towards the same destination, and who could say they ever would be.

“How is he?” Davey asked, before he could stop himself. There was no need to say who he was.

“Not bad. The likes of us can do a lot of things, y'know? Of lot of it’s good for him. He’s got me and Kath keeping him company. You wouldn’t believe everything we’ve seen and the places we’ve been. Wanna give it a try?”

Davey shook his head. He wanted to be tempted, he really did, but he just wasn’t.

“Look. I just… I gotta go. Can’t stand here talking to you. Bye,” Davey looked askance at Crutchie, just a little unsure- _awkward_ was the word for it. When Crutchie came in closer, Davey leaned in, and let his old friend kiss him on the cheek. It was the kind of intensely personal display of affection that could call too much attention even in this day and age, but luckily tonight the people who saw them chose to pointedly ignore it.

Davey was the one who broke away. He turned his back and made his way into the chilly night air, into city streets that were both strange and familiar.

 _This is New York the vampire told himself_ , swallowing back memories of murder and rebirth, of the way Jack’s mouth had felt on his neck as he killed him. Davey understood what it was like to be new, and so starved for blood that it drove you to the point of indiscriminate killing. He understood what it was like to look into the face of a loved one, somebody you’d never ever want to hurt, and then rip open their throat. He understood what it meant to be simultaneously helpless and monstrous.

What he did not understand were the forces that would drive someone to bring another blood drinker into the world. That was something that Davey would never do.


End file.
